


Kindergarten Boyfriend

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Extremely Underage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Severely underage, Underage Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, author doesn't condone IRL, move along, no redeeming qualities here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 13:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Percy Graves is a new teacher and he hates every second of it.Credence is an unfortunate victim of bullying in class and at home, so he gravitates towards the nicest person in the room.





	Kindergarten Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [x57](https://archiveofourown.org/users/x57/gifts).



> created with the help of a friend outlining and editing and cheering the whole way.  
> this is exactly what it says in the tags, don't like, don't read.  
> thanks.

Children suck. No really. They do. They’re the worst. Percy can’t stand them, the sniffling, the whining, the runny noses and sticky fingers and the fucking pitter-patter bullshit.

 

How can anyone say they _want_ children? He doesn’t understand.

 

It’s worse when he has to give in, and commit his time to working with them, being around them, willingly. At least he’s paid for his efforts, even if every second is spent wishing he was back home, nursing a glass of whiskey, over ice, or if he’s feeling particularly lazy, warm, and gulped down, so he can savor the burn.

 

God.

 

He hates this so much.

 

It’s been about three hours into his first day, and already he wants to quit, but there’s a brown eyed and dark haired child tugging on the sleeve of his shirt as he sits, languishing in the corner, staring at the clock which mocks him with its slow ticking.

“What?” He’s angry at first, until he focuses, and realizes the child is crying already, and the quiver of his bottom lip isn’t annoying, it’s disturbing in how pretty and plush it is.

“S-someone shoved me. I just wanted some apple juice. Please mister… can you help me?”

Percy blinks, then the hand on his sleeve is pressed onto his arm, small fingers curling into his skin, searing down to the bone. He’s never been assaulted by such a little thing before.

“Uh, you just want some of the snack?”

He glances away, over to the table, the ever mighty white folded expanse that ends up filthy by the end of the day, and there are no more cups spread on its surface, even as animal crackers sit primly in little bowls and there’s tiny bottles of water.

“Yes please mister.”

Percy gets up, reluctantly from his perch off in the corner, where most of the kids ignore him and bother the other kindergarten teacher, and the relatively quiet child trails behind in his wake, as he stalks across the room and snags an empty cup, before going outside, down the hall, to the much hallowed snack machine, which takes _real_ money, and he hears a strangled gasp. The child is watching him with wide eyes as he withdraws his wallet, the money clip also keeping down a stack of cards.

“Apple right?”

There’s a myriad of options, including but not limited to chocolate milk, regular milk, several brands of cookies, candy, and crackers, along with all the drinks. The child’s eyes are blown wide as he looks, stepping right beside Percy’s leg to stare up at the rows and rows of illuminated treats.

“Could… could I have that?”

He’s pointing to the strawberry milk, basically straight sugar with a hint of red food coloring, but Percy’s not going to argue, the hyper children are not his problem after four o’clock, so he nods.

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

He selects a bottle of diet coke for himself, because fuck it, diet tastes better even if it may kill him faster and then clicks on kid’s milk, then slides his card, before pocketing it with his wallet again. It takes a few moments before the machine whirs and clanks, and spits out the bottles. He hands over the milk, and then starts back to the classroom, not bothering to check if the child’s following, because of course he is.

“Thank you sir.”

Percy thumbs the plastic nametag pinned to his chest, and winks over at the kid,

“Just Mister Graves is plenty formal enough, if you insist.”

The kid nods, solemn as ever, and then gets up to go for some of the animal crackers still remaining on the table, but he smiles again back at Percy, and something in his chest drops down to his toes.

That mouth is just obscene. It’s unfair really, having to see something like that at work, around kids.

What the fuck is happening?

 

_Day nine, hour five._

 

Kids these days. They think they know everything. Well Percy has been around, he's seen and done shit he'll take to the grave, he knows. But when it comes to that kid, the pale and dark haired one who seems skittish as a fucking rabbit, why, he's prepared to throw everything he knows out the window for him. Credence. That's right. He's barely five years old and somehow haunting Percy’s thoughts.  Those wide eyes and those lips that belong in porn. It's like his worst nightmare made flesh, and he can't think straight or focus on anything. When that kid walks up, teary eyed and wobbly lipped, god he knows he's fucked.

The first time he asks to stay in during recess Percy sighs and says no. Credence is crying and shuffling outside to the playground with the other kids, but at least he's socializing, getting some sun and much needed exercise. It's _good_ for him. He doesn't have to know that as soon as he left, Percy retreats into the pathetic bathroom half between the walls, slamming doors shut and locking them. Double checking everything, then he’s lowering his fly and palming over his cock, throbbing and needy. Biting back a moan, Percy jerks over himself hard and fast, fighting the urge to picture those soft lips parting over his length. Just how wide would the boy's mouth stretch to accommodate him, would he cry?  Would he beg?

Oh god.

He pictures him after all, sweet and smiling and helpful on his knees, lips parted, eyes closed.

Percy comes within a few minutes, panting against the wall, free hand splayed over the cool surface, with a cramp in his right thigh, and a mess left in his hand and splattered halfway to the floor.

Fuck.

He uses far too much toilet paper cleaning up after himself, and he's jittery and on edge for the rest of the day despite the relaxation his stolen orgasm should bring him. Startled even by Credence saying hello, innocently enough, and then smiling at him like he's the whole world. He's not. He's nothing. He's no one. Why can't he stop thinking about this pretty little kid?

The hand that had just been striping over his cock grips the boy's shoulder, squeezing gently as he guides him over to the snack table, urging him to pick something he likes. It's wrong to feel his stomach turn over when Credence smiles on his way to scoop up the plate of Oreos and glass of lemonade, but it happens.

Percy moves away as quick as he can and hums to himself, he's making this harder than it should be. This boy is going to ruin him, he can sense it, yet somehow, he welcomes his destruction. It'll be fun while it lasts.

 

 

 

Going on three weeks, and the kid is almost constantly at his side, except during recess, when he’s reluctantly nudging him out the door. Percy sits in the corner, thumbing through a paperback he doesn’t really care about, but one of the other teachers had pressed it on him, saying it was worth the read. It’s Ann Rand, who gives terrible advice about most things she had no idea about, and Percy’s half tempted to just donate it to the library and pretend he lost it, when the doors slamming open, and there’s Credence, crying.

“Hey. What’s the matter, kiddo?”

He doesn’t say anything, just holds out one hand, bleeding onto the laminate floor, and giving Percy a heart attack.

“Fu-dge. Come on.”

He scoops him up, because if the kid is gonna bleed on anything, it might as well be easier to clean, like his dumb navy polo shirts that he washes once a week altogether. The bathroom is cooler, and the sink is low enough for him to rest a hip against, before thinking better of it, and just plopping the kid down on the counter, urging him to hold his hands under the water until the bleeding slows down.

Damn. what the hell happened out there? Gladiator tournament? Six year olds claiming swings and not relinquishing their hold?

Ridiculous.

Percy pulls out the first aid kit, and he’s flipping through the bandages, most of them are too small, the kid needs his whole palm covered, and the water stops. He looks over and sees Credence biting his lip, evidently in pain, but doing his best to be quiet. The tears have slowed, and he’s just blinking silently, awaiting Percy’s verdict.

He checks his watch, selfishly, there’s fifteen minutes of recess left, and he can get Credence fixed up and shove him back out there, or he can keep him the rest of the time, and make sure he’s first in line for snacks.

He’s already decided what to do, and he kicks the open door closed, hating himself the whole way.

“Here.”

The ointment is to help aid healing, and prevent infections, and jesus christ, the cuts on this kids hands… that’s not from falling down on the playground.

“What uh, who did this?”

Credence keeps looking at the doors, and Percy wonders if he’s upset, feeling trapped or something, until he leans in, and whispers rather loudly,

“I fell. I’m a clumsy child, spawn of satan.”

Aside from being hilarious and overdramatic, Percy frowns anyway, continuing to slather the clear and fairly thick stuff on the broken skin, before wrapping it carefully in gauze and then securing it with tape.

“Who told you that?”

“My mommy. She takes me to church every Sunday.”

Percy snorts. If there was a Hell, or anyone was Satan’s spawn, it’s gotta be him.

“Well, I can certainly tell you, you’re not. I’ve seen you playing with the others. You’re quick. Nimble. Spry. That’s fancy shit for ‘not clumsy.’ Okay?”

Percy eyed him, and when Credence didn’t meet his gaze, he put his free hand under the kid’s chin, forcing his head up, and then those dark liquid eyes finally locked on his.

“Okay.”

“Now… you want to go back outside?”

Credence shook his head almost at once, and put one of his little hands to Percy’s arm,

“Want to stay with you. Please.”

“Okay. You got it. What do you want to do? Go pick something out to read?”

Credence licks his lips, and shrugs, a little movement that only makes Percy think about how much he’d love to see that mouth wrapped around a finger… or two.

“I like anything you like.”

Credence clasps his hands together, the one bandaged and the other more than taken care of with a singular bandaid, and bobs his legs as they hang off the counter.

“So…”

Percy is utterly at a loss for words. He knows what he _likes_ , he knows what he’d _like_ to do to this wide eyed innocent little creature, but, can he keep secrets? How smart is he? Whatever happened to his hands wasn’t just now, outside, among a bunch of six year olds. Percy might be slow, but he wasn’t born yesterday.

He wonders if there’s more, if he peels off that little striped shirt, will there be more cuts, or dark bruises on the pale stretches of skin?

“Credence… would you like a present?”

The boy beams,

“For what?”

Percy drags a hand over the bandage on his hand, and then up, fingers trailing across his delicate wrist, and over his arm, waiting to see how long it’ll be until he shivers away from it. But he doesn’t move, he’s frozen, watching and eagerly listening.

“For being such a brave boy. I think you deserve something special.”

Credence nods, and looks more than a little confused, but when Percy reaches for his chin again, his fingers curl around the soft line of his jaw, and cup the back of his head, going as slow as he can, keeping his eyes open, just up until his mouth meets the boy’s.

There’s no change, no instant reaction, Credence is perhaps too shocked to react or he’s still sweetly confused… but he hums and then presses closer, opening his mouth clumsily beneath Percy’s.

Now here, that’s where Credence is lost, and unaware of what to do. Percy tries to hint, nudging his own mouth closed again, and tilting his head a little, but Credence merely mimics, and chases after the touch, and his tongue is in danger of lolling out.

“Credence… what are you doing?”

The boy jolts slightly, but speaks again in that dramatic whispery hush that’s the same volume as the rest of his speech, with a squeak at the end.

“I don’t know? Is this the present?”

Percy sighs, and pulls back, leaning his forehead against the boy’s, and then just nods.

“Yes. We’ll have to try again sometime. You understand, this has to be our secret, right? I don’t want the other children getting jealous that I gave you a present.”

The urge to give him more, to just tell him that was only the beginning, and urge him down off the counter, bring him eye level with his aching cock, pressing hard against the seam of his jeans, it’s tempting. But he’ll wait. There’s not enough time anyway. Though he’ll get off in under ten minutes at home, easily, his thoughts flooding with the memories from this afternoon.

“Okay Mister Graves. Thank you.”

“Good boy.”

He pets the side of the boy’s face, and then scoops him back into his arms, helping him back down to the floor, pulling open the door to send him back out, the other kids just starting to line up outside, ready to come back in and get their snack.

Percy takes a seat in the corner again, but keeps an eye on the kid as always, ensuring he doesn’t linger in conversation with any other kid, or other teacher. He’s keeping to himself, as usual. Nothing has changed. Except he looks over to Percy after he’s finished his snack and smiles. He winks back and catches a hint of color blooming in the boy’s cheeks.

 

That night the only change in routine is imagining a more theatrical scenario, where Percy swoops in and puts a stop to whoever is hurting the kid, all so he can rescue him, bring him back, and properly take care of him. It’s terrible, but there’s nothing more he wants than to stop the ‘Mister Graves’ nonsense and hear ‘Daddy’ from those pretty plush lips.

God.

Percy lays back in his bed and shoves a hand down his boxers, trying to resist, hold off a few minutes more. He’s been holding off and letting go of his cock every time he gets close for almost an hour now. What the fuck was he thinking, starting up this torture? The kid can’t even kiss properly. Hasn’t had a gentle touch in his life from anyone but Percy, it seems. He’s too pretty when he’s crying, and yet, he just wants to slap the shit out of anyone who dares _make_ Credence cry. Unless he could find a way to make it happen without actually hurting him… too badly.

Surely he’d cry the first time he tried to put his mouth on Percy’s cock. Or maybe if Credence asks, and Percy can help _him_ off, he’ll cry because it feels good. It doesn’t matter. Picturing the boy in the throes of either, or both, a pleasure-pain high and the fight’s over. Percy feels his orgasm overwhelm him and he’s panting for breath, arching his back off the bed and making a mess of his hand, the inside of his shorts, fucking Christ. Might as well take another shower. He’s not going to fall asleep easily like this.

 

 

 

The kid has been jumpy today, and normally Percy could blame it on an extra sugary breakfast before coming into kindergarten but clearly, Credence’s home life is less than stellar, so he doubts that’s the case. He sends him off to go outside to recess, and makes himself useful, setting up the snack table, separating the boxes of crackers and counting out bottles of juice, straws and napkins a plenty. He’s barely finished and its record time, five minutes into it, when the door slams, and someone pelts past. The bathroom door swings shut, and the lock clicks, but he doesn’t panic.

No one can really get locked in there because he’s got a key, and the second door gets neglected nine times out of ten, if the kids just in a hurry to get in and then back out to play. He walks around the corner and prepares to just ensure the second door isn’t locked, when he hears the familiar sound of sobs echoing off the walls. Not just _anyone_ , it’s Credence. He sighs and then pushes on the door, which yields to him easily enough, revealing the kid hunched over the sink, red splotches visible through the back of his shirt, and the sink is running slowly, hardly a trickle. He’s probably scared to death, and not sure how to even begin to take care of himself.

“Credence… do you need some help?”

The kid looks over at him, bottom lip quivering and tears already spilling over and running down his cheeks.

“Mister Graves! I think… I fell down.”

Percy sighs again, and shakes his head, turning to properly secure the door behind him, satisfied at the sound of the lock sliding into place, before he checks the opposite side, and then strides over to Credence’s side, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but the kid flinched away and he tried again, instead moving down to retrieve the first aid kit.

“You fell, onto your back? Off a swing-set, or going too fast on a slide? Please. Tell me the truth Credence. You can trust me. It’ll be our little secret.”

The kid hiccups on a sob, and shivers, but he lets Percy finally peel off the blood soaked shirt, to toss it into the sink, to be washed out in a second, once all his wounds have been attended to.

God, it looks like he was mauled by a jungle cat, or worse, hit with something sharp, metal. His breath catches in his chest as he makes out the shape of a buckle, a square hit that couldn’t be made by a hand.

“Who the fuck did this?”

Credence braces himself over the edge of the sink, letting Percy start to wipe up some of the blood, dried or tacky with alcohol soaked cloths, and he tries to be soothing, murmuring low, how good of a boy he is, how nice and quiet he’s being. “It’ll be over soon,” he lies easily enough, though the wounds are clean, they’ll need some serious binding. He’s not even sure if there’s enough stuff to cover them all. What the hell is the kid going to wear after this?

“His name is Sam.”

Percy focuses on wrapping up the worst of the cuts, still oozing blood, and he’s shaking, he’s so angry. He needs Credence to keep him calm by talking.

“What’s he look like?”

Credence’s voice trembles and dips as he tries not to react,

“He’s… a second year. Blond. Taller.”

Percy wracks his brain trying to remember, throughout the mess of the other kids, six and seven year olds, there’s a ton of blondes and brunettes, but no one who’s as petite and fragile as Credence. No wonder he’s such an easy target. He leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of the kid’s head, before he can think better of it, and in the mirror, their eyes meet.

Credence’s gaze drops first,

“He pushed me down. He didn’t make all the cuts.”

“I see.”

Percy’s out of gauze, but the last wound he can see will be okay air drying, with a smidge of the ointment that’s left, it’ll have to do.

“I don’t mean to be a tattle-tail.”

Percy rolls his eyes, then pulls away, moving around, looking for that blasted ‘ _lost and found_ ’ tub, praying to a god he knows has long abandoned him to cut him a break. There. An ugly grey shirt, but it’s big enough. It won’t hurt the kid.

“Put this on.”

Credence turns away from the sink, and reaches out, accepting the shirt with wide eyes, looking at it like it’s been woven from gold thread or some bullshit.

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. It’s fine. As for Sam, I won’t uh, add your name to the report.” The fact is, there’s not much he’s going to do, he can’t exactly get a kid kicked out of the class… can he? Finally, blessedly, Credence actually smiles, and though his cheeks are still wet with tears, he doesn’t seem so gloomy anymore.

“Hey, hey c’mere.”

Percy holds open his arms, and Credence doesn’t quite run at him, but he slams into him hard enough to take his breath away.

This little bundle of innocence crowned with dark hair and big eyes is so resilient, it’s amazing. He’s got to kneel down to bring the boy to his eye level, but as soon as he’s there, he kisses him, soft, and slow, while he puts one hand to the boy’s cheek and the other around his waist, where he knows there weren’t any injuries.

“Mister Graves… can I stay with you? Please?”

“Of course baby. I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

He goes outside the bathroom first, checking that no one else has come back early, or in search of snacks, and they’re in luck. The other kids are still running around, screaming, and throwing as much dirt as they are probably eating, the poor dumb idiots. There’s still twenty-five minutes of recess left. So he locks the door, and draws as many of the curtains down as he can.

Taking Credence by the hand in his own, he walks them over to his chair in the corner, where he’ll have the best vantage point, and then pulls the boy into his lap, happy to just hold him, until there’s a cold press of his tear streaked face against his neck, and a warm wetness on his skin. Credence is mouthing over and up the side of his jaw, and he’s getting hard from this amatuer attempt at kissing.

“Credence… what are you doing?”

“I just want to thank you? With a present? Can I give you one?”

Percy fights back a groan, and puts one hand on the boy’s closest knee, gripping as hard as he dares, tugging his leg over, so Credence is properly straddling him, and can be pushed down onto his cock.

“Yes baby. Kiss me quick.”

“What is that?”

The boy is fairly observant, maybe too much so, for his own good, and he wriggles over Percy’s lap, even as he slots his mouth against his own.

“Mmm, baby, it just means you make me feel good.”

“It’s hard. Does it hurt?”

One of Credence’s hands slides down his chest, and then grazes over his cock, just barely a touch, but Percy’s hips jolt, and he’s biting back a gasp when the boy pushes harder.

“It does. A little. Do you want to-”

He shouldn’t.

Anyone could walk in and see.

His eyes fly up to the clock, and there’s still twenty minutes. He could come in less than that, easily, especially if the boy puts his mouth on him.

Credence blinks, and rubs it again, frowning in concentration now,

“How can I help it feel better?”

“Baby, do you ever touch yourself like this?”

Of course he doesn’t, look at him. He’s young, too young to even know what _any_ of this is, but oh, Credence shakes his head, bites that bottom lip, and Percy is _throbbing_ now, desperate enough to push back, and spread his legs, so that the boy can step in between them, trying to get close again, maybe for another kiss. Another present.

How about an early snack?

He can’t say the words, but he can undo his zipper and give his cock a bit more room to breathe. If that means Credence can touch it with his hand, bare skin to skin, so what?

His little hand fits inside the opening of Percy’s boxers, and it’s blissful, for a few seconds, until Credence pulls back, and stares at his fingers in confusion.

“It’s wet. Did you have an accident Mister Graves?”

He snorts out a laugh, and pets the side of the boy’s cheek. His skin is soft, like silk. It’s unreal. He cannot even imagine how it’ll be inside his mouth, even if he doesn’t get to come, it’ll be enough to-

“Kiss it. See if you can clean it up.”

Credence has never defied him before, never refused something, and he still doesn’t but his little nose wrinkles as he leans in, and just gives it a quick lick.

Percy’s cock is halfway out of the slit of his boxers, but it twitches from the contact, and it’s very tempting to put his hand in the boy’s hair, and just _shove_ him down. But… gently.

He’s just been thrown back together, and someone consistently beats him bloody.

Percy is all that Credence has that’s kind and good in his life, so he’s not going to just throw that away, not at all.

“It tastes funny.”

“I’m sorry baby. You don’t have to. You can stop.”

His thigh muscles are screaming in protest, his balls tight, and he’s probably seconds from coming if he could just _get inside_ that pretty plush mouth.

Credence blinks at him, and then smiles beautifully,

“Will you make me feel good too?”

“Don’t I always?”

Credence nods, and then moves down again, bobbing his mouth along the head, the shaft, and anything he can kiss. It’s sweet, even as it’s disgusting and more precome dribbles shiny out of the tip.

He’s gripping both of his own knees to keep from touching the boy, and he thrusts up against empty air when Credence has to take a break, eyes going wide at the sight of Percy’s cock moving on its own.

“Please, just put your mouth on the whole end. Pretend it’s a sucker. Candy. No teeth now.”  
Credence opens his mouth as wide as he can go, and just falls down onto it, forcing a shout from Percy’s throat.

“Fuck. Can you swallow? Hard? Suck on it a little.”

He looks up at Percy, and clamps his lips shut as best he can, and he can _feel_ the wet flicker of a tongue against the underside. His vision whites out, and he falls back into the chair, panting for breath, as the sounds of Credence coughing and choking fills his ears.

When he manages another look down, the boy is a mess, shiny from come dripping out of his mouth and down his chin, clearly he tried to swallow most of it, but Percy couldn’t really help himself, he might have thrust up harder than he meant to.

“Sorry baby. Come here. Let me clean you up.”

A paper towel does the trick, and he tosses it away into the nearest trash can. Once Credence is settled on his lap again, he turns him to face away from him, back to chest, but gently, he doesn’t want to open any wounds back up.

“Does it still hurt?”

“No. You made it all better.”

“Can you show me?”

“Of course.”

Percy’s hand is massive compared to Credence’s groin, pressing between the boy’s legs to find his little cock is an adventure, and he’s almost wary, wondering if it would be easier to just pull his pants off completely…

They have time.

Ten minutes.

Percy hefts him up against his side, and carries him off to the bathroom, locking those doors again. Two layers of protection from prying eyes.

“I just need to take this off so I can see you better, okay?”

The boy’s shorts are elastic waisted jeans, they don’t have a real zipper or button, so they slide off and down his skinny pale legs easily enough.

Percy kisses his cheek, and pets a hand up his inner thigh, seeing what sort of reaction he can get, though he knows it’s unlikely to bring about any real stimulation.

Credence shivers, and arches into the touch, silently begging for more. Percy finally puts his hand to the front of his threadbare briefs, practically see through, and the cock that’s lying there, soft but sensitive, is enough to make the boy shift closer, and reach up to wrap his arms around his neck.

“Feels good?”

“Mhm, yes please, more?”

Slipping his fingers inside, he can stroke over the skin, again, so soft, and strange to feel it harden slightly but not change in size, all the while Credence’s limbs tremble. He seems to be rutting harder, wanting a rougher touch, so Percy obliges, squeezing and tugging. Then he rubs a thumb over the plump head, though it remains dry, clearly the nerve endings are working.

Percy shifts his hold on the boy, so he can lean back against the sink, and Credence continues to grasp at his waist, hugging him, nuzzling his cheek into his chest, whispering that it’s nice, really nice,

“Please Mister Graves, don’t stop.”

He feels the exact moment the boy must crest, and he stills, but his cock’s no longer dry, something is wetting over Percy’s hand, slicking his fingers, and then Credence buries his face against his neck, the semblance of aftershocks making him shiver.

“Did you-?”

He’s not confused, just wondering if he did something wrong, or should have expected something different.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to _go_.”

He heaves out a sigh, and then pulls back, gently setting Credence down on his own two wobbly legs, eyeing the damp patch on the front of his crotch.

“It’s okay. I didn’t really know what would happen. I’ll clean you up baby. I won’t tell anyone… if you tell me where you really got those marks.”

Percy held out the paper towels, just shy of pressing into the boy’s thighs, and he put his hands over his face, mumbling through his fingers, reluctant, but quietly,

“My mommy did it.”

Now Percy was seeing red, so he cleans up the boy as carefully as he can, helps him back into his shorts, and sends him back out to the main room. Two minutes on the clock, he can unlock all the doors, fuck with the curtains, and still pace around the room before everyone returns.

This is all bad. Very bad.

Credence’s parents are responsible for this awful abuse?

What the fuck?

 

That night when he gets home and climbs into bed, he can’t even jerk off properly. All he’s thinking about is Credence, being picked up after kindergarten and driven home, smacked around for saying the wrong thing, for not answering fast enough, or maybe, complaining that he’s tired, and his bandages itch.

God.

If he gets hurt worse because of Percy’s helping him, he’s going to call CPS himself. In the end, he can’t sleep until he lets his hand drift below the sheet, and gives in, taking his cock in hand, stroking hard and fast, imagining Credence, happy and content, snuggled in bed beside him does it, and he gone, over the edge and fucking his fist until it hurts to keep holding himself.

His eyes don’t close properly until five a.m. and birdsong wakes him at seven.

It’s gonna be a long week.

 

 

 

Friday morning he walks into the school, and his head is killing him, with the couple beers he had the night before, along with some tequila, he should have known better. All he wanted to do was to socialize, get to know some of his fellow teachers, and maybe attempt to find out some info on Credence, and his whole “situation” before having to ask the source. Maybe he was also trying to get laid too, good and proper, but that didn’t happen, and now it’s deadly silent in the room before the kids start filing in. He goes to his corner, and stays there, until the recess bell rings, harsh enough to drill right through his skull almost, and he groans, leaning against the wall in his corner, slumping in his chair.

“Mister Graves? Are you okay?”

It’s his little angel, because of course it is. Credence speaks soft, lilting and reaching out with a gentle hand to pet over his forehead, as his eyes flicker open, he focuses on the dark smudges on the boy’s face.

He sits up straight and nearly knocks the kid back, as he realizes what it is.

Someone’s clocked the boy across the face, and they weren’t subtle about it, he’s got a watery eye, and it’s a bit more bloodshot than the other one.

“Baby… what happened?”

He holds out a hand, and Credence comes closer, stepping between his spread legs to crawl up into his lap, snuggling into his chest.

“I said a bad word.”

“What did you say?”

Credence’s words get muffled against his shirt, but he swears he heard something like ‘ _shit_ ’ pass between those pink lips.

Oh no.

He swore a few times around Credence, and he’d picked it up, thinking nothing of it, like kids do.

Goddamnit.

“Did she hit you?”

“Mhm.”

Before anything more, Percy gets up and carries the boy along, checking the doors, locking one which wasn’t secure, then he returns to his corner.

He then rubs a hand over the boy’s back, ridges of scars noticeable even through the fabric, and it makes his blood boil. His hand slides down, and he’s rucking up the boy’s shirt and pressing his fingertips down the length of his spine before he even notices, but Credence isn’t fighting it, he’s squirming closer, and putting a hand on Percy’s cock without being told.

“Please don’t stop. Feels nice.”

“Right back atcha baby.”

The elastic waistband lets him dip his hand lower, and he’s squeezing over one of the boy’s pert little asscheeks, pulling him closer, turning his head to kiss mindlessly at the silky skin of his ear, and then licking, kissing his neck.

“That tickles. What’re you doing?”

“I want you to sit on my hand. Can you do that for me baby?”

It’s just for practice, for fun, to see if he can make the boy come for real without even touching his little cock.

It’s ridiculous really, helping Credence out of his shorts, and arranging him in his lap so that he can straddle a hand, ‘ _Suck on my fingers, nice and wet,’_ then he switches hands, and he can nudge one fingertip inside the tight hot cleft of the boy’s ass.

He won’t sit still,

“Feels funny.”

His little scrunched up frown is adorable, and frustrating all at once.

Percy sighs, and then tells him to open his pants, play with _his_ cock, and he kisses him, to try to distract him. It works, somewhat, he can get a whole finger inside, up to the knuckle, and Credence’s lips part, as he whimpers, and he’s moving now, even if he doesn’t realize it, he’s riding one finger beautifully.

Percy’s not close, nowhere near it, but when both of Credence’s hands wrap around his cock, jerking him slow, and tentative, one whole palm fitting over his precome slicked head, well, it’s not bad at all.

“If I could help you, keep your mommy from hurting you again, would that be okay?”

Credence is half listening, more focused on not making a sound from the second finger trying to wedge its way inside him, and Percy puts his free hand to the boy’s chin, rubbing his thumb over the swell of his cheek, avoiding the bruise, emboldened by the sight of it.

“Yes. Please don’t let her hurt me.”

“Of course baby. I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe. Now, use both hands in one motion. Like pushing down your pants, push down on my cock.”

Up and down, he means, but Credence is clever, he figures it out, and he’s hypnotized for a moment, watching as Percy starts to come, and more and more white liquid blurts out of the swollen head. When he scoops some of it up and puts it to his mouth, _that’s_ new.

“Good boy.”

He breathes out, almost short of air from the sight, and he’s given up on trying to make Credence come, also, he doesn’t want to clean up from another accident. He pulls away, and wipes off his hands, before he tugs the boy’s pants back up, and asks if he wants to lick it all up.

“A little something before your snack… hmm?”

Credence kneels between his legs and suckles over the spilled come, it’s funny and arousing in a way Percy can’t explain.

They have ten minutes, so every little lap of the boy’s tongue on his skin gets committed to memory, and there are no more tears or complaints at the taste.

He’s glad for that.

Now all he has to do is get the boy away from those awful people he calls his parents, and somehow, get to the top of the list for foster care.

He hopes it won’t be too difficult.

 

 

 

He’s given the kid the proper tour, walking him through the whole house, and Credence hasn’t said a word. Percy finally stops walking, when they’re standing outside what will be technically ‘his’ bedroom, and he turns to find the kid’s jaw almost on the floor.

“This is all mine?”

His eyes are shiny, and Percy knows tears are threatening to spill over those plump cheeks,

“Yes baby. All yours. Are you hungry, you want a snack? Remember how to get to the kitchen?”

He starts moving, and Credence follows, but slowly, every step trudging, if it was winter, he’d be able to zap anything he touches after a few paces.

“Can we have chocolate milk, and animal crackers?”

Percy snorts out a laugh,

“Just like at school? You don’t want something different? More… grown up?”

Like he was in need of a drink. If anyone was, it was Percy, new parent and bonafide son of a bitch who’d really sold his soul all right.

“Like what Mister Graves?”

Oh.

Like that.

“Baby, you don’t have to call me that anymore. You can call me Daddy.”

Credence’s hand found his, and he squeezed as hard as he could, looking breathless, face flushed and still on the verge of crying.

“Really?”

Percy takes pity on him, and smiles, nodding as he leans down to pull the boy up into his arms, within kissing distance now, and he pecks one damp cheek, before continuing the journey to stand in front of the fridge, precious cargo in tow.

“Do you mind if Daddy has a drink? It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

Credence is frowning, adorably confused, and it just makes Percy want to laugh all over again.

“I would like a drink too. Please.”

“I know baby. I’m just teasing you.”

They had a mid afternoon snack, and then Percy took Credence into the living room to show him how the television and stereo worked, as there had been no such thing in his last  house. He’s only ever had the bible to read, and that’s a damned shame. By the time dinner rolls around, Percy doesn’t feel like ordering takeout, but there is a box of macaroni and cheese that has been collecting dust in his pantry, at the sight of it, Credence’s eyes light up.

It isn’t until he’s helped the boy get ready for bed, brushing his teeth, changing into his new pajamas, and tucked him in, that he’s asked a question.

“Daddy, what if I have a bad dream?”

Percy is bewildered, reaching up to stroke the boy’s face, pushing his wild dark bangs out of his eyes,

“Do you have those baby?”

“Sometimes. I usually wake up shouting.”

“Oh. well. If that happens, I promise I won’t be mad at you. You can even come get me. Crawl into bed with me if you need to.”

Percy didn’t expect to be handed such a golden opportunity, but there it is.

“But Daddy… you’re so far away.”

Credence clasps both of his hands over Percy’s much bigger one, and he’s unable to help from smiling down at the boy.

“If it’s alright with you… you can come with me tonight, and just see how it feels.”

Credence blinks, and then sits up slightly,

“You mean…”

He didn’t originally plan for this, but he’s not going to turn down a chance to christen his bed on the first night he’s got his little angel under his roof.

“I’d love it.”

Credence beams at him, and fairly pounces, clinging to him the whole way back to his room, only letting go when Percy insists he has to do his own bedtime preparations, and he’s plopping onto the plush silky covers, and snuggled up against his pillow.

Percy keeps sneaking glances at him throughout, brushing his teeth, washing his face, and changing into his pajamas, which is usually nothing, and now he just tugs on a pair of soft boxers. Obviously he can’t go to bed stark naked, he’s got to ease the boy into it, somewhat.

He comes back to his bed to find Credence splayed out, looking up at the ceiling, and the boy turns to look over at him, smiling beatifically again.

“Hi Daddy,”

“Hey baby. Ready for lights out?”

“Mhm.”

Percy slips under the covers, and waits for Credence to do the same, which he does, before cuddling up right next to him, and he smiles right back, reaching over to switch off the lamp.

“Daddy?”

“Yes baby?”

“If I mess up, are you going to use your hand or your belt on my back and bottom?”

Percy is flicking the light back on within ten seconds, and he looks down at Credence, huddled under the covers, with his own eyes wide.

“Baby… no. I wanted you to live with me to get you _away_ from all that. If you disobey me, I’ll be angry, yes. But I won’t hit you. I will always teach you what’s right and what’s wrong. You can’t be perfect. You’re learning.”

Credence pressed his lips together, and then nodded, listing against Percy’s hand when he held it out, and gently stroked over the nape of the boy’s neck.

“Okay Daddy.”

“I don’t want you to have any more scars baby. Not from me.”

“Can I have a goodnight kiss?”

Percy leaned over Credence, and gently pecked his lips on the boy’s forehead.

“Okay.”

He pulled back to find the boy giggling,

“No Daddy… I mean like the other kisses.”

He puckered his lips, and closed his eyes, and Percy resisted a wave of fondness welling up inside him to tap a finger on the boy’s bottom lip,

“If you want Daddy to kiss you, there’s a magic word.”

Credence’s eyes blinked open wide,

“Magic? What is it Daddy?”

Percy dragged his finger from the boy’s mouth down his chin, past his neck, to tug gently on the top button of his pajama top,

“It starts with a ‘p’ and ends with an ‘e.’”

Credence’s mouth formed an ‘o’ and he nodded,

“Please Daddy? I didn’t know magic was real.”

Percy chuckled,

“Lot’s of things can be magical.”

He slipped a whole hand inside the boy’s shirt, and palmed over his heart, feeling how it beat faster, whether from his touch or just his proximity.

“You want me here?”

He was hovering right over the boy’s mouth, keen to dip down and press their lips together, but still trying to tease.

“Yes! Please?”

“Okay baby. Daddy’s going to kiss you all over tonight.”

Getting the boy out of his pajamas wasn’t hard, it took perhaps the better part of five minutes, mainly because he didn’t stop wiggling and laughing if Percy accidentally touched a part of his body that was ticklish.

When he put a firm hand down on the boy’s chest, pinning him to his back, he was panting for air, cheeks flushed and his little cock resting between his legs, soft as ever.

Percy meanwhile suspected he could cut fucking diamonds with his own cock, and barely resisted the urge to grind down on the mattress, wanting to wait, to be able to properly spill into his boy’s mouth.

“Would you like Daddy to suck your cock?”

Credence couldn’t speak, he simply whimpered and nodded, so Percy shifted down, and licked and kissed the skin just beside it, humming into the swell of his bare hip, before easing back, and putting his mouth to the soft little head. It’s dry of course, but the length of it has grown stiff, and he smiles against the boy’s hip.

“Use your words baby.”

“Daddy! It feels… hot. Wet. Like I’m itchy but not.”

“Don’t mind me, I’m going to kiss you here too.”

He put a hand between the boy’s legs, and rubbed his thumb over his tight hole, feeling how it twitched beneath his fingertip.

“Oh! Daddy, you shouldn’t.”

“Why not baby?”

“It felt strange with your hand.”

“Mhm, yes. But this will be much better.”

He wasn’t sure if he could actually get Credence off like this, but he was willing to try. Stroking over his little cock and kissing down his soft sack, before pressing his tongue against the underside, he could feel the boy shivering.

He liked it even if he didn’t understand why.

“Daddy! It’s too much.”

“Do you want me to stop? Do you want to kiss Daddy’s cock instead?”

He looked up to find the boy nodding eagerly, and it made his heart skip a beat.

Who was he to refuse such enthusiasm?

He rolled onto his back, and curled his fingers around one of the boy’s arms, gently tugging him over, and shoving his boxers down his hips, letting his own cock spring free to nudge against his stomach, smearing precome onto his skin.

“Oh… Daddy, it’s so big.”

He remembered of course, Credence had never seen him fully naked, only seen half his length jutting out from his boxers, so from root to tip, yes, he was a bit much.

“Don’t worry, take your time baby.”

The boy only stared, wide eyed for a few moments, before moving closer, and pressing his lips against one of the sides, tongue just barely peeking between them, and wetting along down the shaft, until his nose was tickled by Percy’s hair below his navel.

Credence back away to rub at his face, and then gave the shiny head a long lick, before trying to take into his mouth in earnest.

“Baby, you’ve been practicing.”

Credence swallowed, looking guilty,

“Yes Daddy. I tried to use a banana, but it melted before I could push it into my throat.”

He petted a shaky hand over the boy’s hair, and carded his fingers through it,

“Good god, baby. You’re going to make Daddy cry.”

It was in fact Credence who cried first, and his tears dripped down his cheeks off his nose, wetting over Percy’s skin, while he did his best to swallow about half of his cock down, using a hand, or two, on what he couldn’t fit.

Percy tried to be gentle, with his hand in the boy’s hair, and the other fisting the sheets, but it was near impossible, and he thrust up once, before he could feel his orgasm seizing through his body, overruling every other impulse. He spilled into Credence’s mouth, ignoring his occasional cough, in favor of petting his forehead, stroking his cheek, telling him how good he was and how lovely he looked, covered in his Daddy’s come.

“Give Daddy a goodnight kiss.”

Credence nodded slowly, and gulped, doing his best to clean off Percy’s cock completely, before crawling back up the length of his body, and snuggling into his chest, mouthing over his jaw and down to his neck, falling asleep shortly, tucked right over his rapidly pounding heart.

“Good night baby boy.”

He put a hand to Credence’s bare back, and did his best to provide soothing touches over the roughened scar scattered surface.

 

 

 

The sunlight pours in through the windows when Graves opens his eyes. The warmth throws a glow over the boy in the bed next to him, snuggled into his pillow with a little smile on his face. He reaches out and brushes his hand through the dark hair then trails his fingertips down the boy’s cheek, across his lips, over his eyelids. He continues skimming his hand up and down the too-thin body until Credence’s eyelashes flutter open and he yawns.

 

“Good morning, baby.” Percy says, smiling.

 

“Good morning, Daddy.”

 

“Did you sleep well?”

 

“Mhm.” He says, scooting over closer to Graves, pressing their bodies flush together. He’s already hard, he always is when he wakes up, and he wonders how long it’ll be until the boy takes notice.

“O-oh Daddy…”

Not long then. He smiles, and kisses the boy’s temple.

“What is it baby?”

“Can I touch it?”

“Of course.”

Credence’s hand is slow, but a welcome contact, and his hips jerk into the touch without meaning to, he sees the boy’s eyes go wide.

“Good?”

“Yes baby. But, do you want to try something different? Besides your pretty mouth?”

He runs a thumb over the bottom lip, and Credence presses his mouth closed to suckle the tip as he nods.

“Get on your back for me baby. Show me what’s between those legs.”

Credence frowns adorably, but does as he’s told, promptly, cupping a hand over each knee and staring over at him as he looms in to kiss his cheek, and then palms over his little cock and balls.

“Daddy…”

“Yes?”

“What are we going to do?”

“Daddy’s going to see how much of my cock you can fit in there.”

He curls a finger against the boy’s hole, trying to work in the tip of a knuckle to start, as if it’ll help him get up to two faster, pausing only a moment to retrieve the lube from the bedside cabinet, and then Credence is gasping, scrunching his little face in confusion, while Percy slicks up two fingers. One at a time, it’s slow going, even though he did two before, days back, that was post climax, he knows.

With a dab of lube to his palm, he rubs purposefully over Credence’s cock, feeling it harden, and then he’s dropping his legs, whimpering softly.

“How’s that baby?”

“Daddy, it’s weird.”

“Yes, but you can do it. I believe in you baby.”

After a few moments, he can feel Credence stiffen, and huff out a little sigh, as he melts back into the bed, having found his own apparent orgasm, though nothing else slicks over his stomach, just a smear of lube, and Percy smiles, leaning down to kiss him, while nudging in the second finger. His own cock is throbbing, dripping onto the sheets, desperate to be buried inside that hot and tight little hole.

“Now what Daddy?”

Percy chuckles,

“So eager baby. We can’t rush it. One more, take one more for me.”

Credence is panting, but he nods, and valiantly tries to hold his legs open wider, so Percy can just barely nudge his ring finger in. It’s a tight fit, but he slicks up his cock, and prays for the best.

Withdrawing his fingers and wiping them on his thigh, he slowly moves down, and pushes the head of his cock against the boy’s hole, murmuring softly for him to relax, and be good for him.

“I’m always good for you Daddy.”

Cheeky little minx.

He’s right though, and when he can get halfway inside, he’s squeezing his eyes shut, trying to think of the least sexy thing he can imagine, all in vain, because his climax is threatening to steal through him, even with small hands scrabbling over his shoulders and neck, and Credence’s legs clinging around his waist.

“Good boy, so tight.”

“Daddy, I can feel you up here.”

He forces his eyes open and catches Credence tapping on his chest, right beside his heart, and he’s unable to help smiling, even as he pulls out, and thrusts minutely back inside,

“That’s right baby. Daddy’s got you.”

His little cock might be getting hard again, from accidental friction, but Percy is too lost to focus on that, he’s just on his last vestiges of control, knees aching, not wanting to crush the boy when he comes, and collapses over him. He braces his arms beside the boy’s head, and kisses his forehead, fucking in as far as he can go, before it’s painfully difficult to move, and he retreats to let just the head of his cock remain inside Credence.

He manages a look down to see where they’re connected, and the boy’s hole is pink and reddened, though shiny with lube, he’s definitely going to feel this for a few days, and it’s from that, strange sense of pride, that throws him over the edge, and he stills his movements, spurting out come into that perfect hole, sliding out another inch to watch his cock finish emptying itself.

When he pulls out completely, Credence’s legs fall down and he can’t hold them up or bother to keep himself open, but his hole hasn’t recovered, it gapes and flutters as Percy can see his come start to dribble out slowly, wetting over the sheets and mingling with smears of lube.

“My cock hungry baby. You’re filthy.”

Credence mewls and tries to snuggle closer, clearly only interested in comforting touches, and for now, Percy can oblige him, as he collapses on his side, and pulls the boy close, smiling dazedly as he nuzzles a cheek into his chest. He’s still catching his breath, as he considers asking what the boy would like for breakfast, just to be able to blow his mind all over again.

 

He suspects it’ll be something sweet.

Good boys get treats after all.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
